He moved along in a hurry, paying no attention to the dozens of saluting soldiers posted around the room. When he reached Cassius, he clasped his hands together and offered a humble bow. He held Cassius’ gaze, as was proper amongst equals.
“Save your pleasantries, Joran,” Cassius said. He stepped around him without returning the gesture.
“Still sour, I see.” Joran frowned, reeled in his arms, and followed. He was one of the four Tribunes and was tasked specifically with overseeing New Terrene and the other settlements on Mars and in Martian space.
“You’re lucky I’m here at all. Last time, you and your Tribunal tried to have me killed.”
“It was your Tribunal as well!” Joran snapped before pausing to regain his composure. “It was an unprecedented situation, Cassius, as you know.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Well, I would have been happy to live out the rest of my pitiful life far away from here. It was you who summoned me. Only out of the kindness of my heart did I accept, so let’s be done with it as quickly as possible.”
“Charming as always, Cassius,” Joran grumbled. He shooed away the servant girl, who was quietly waiting. “The others await us in the council chambers. Do try to be congenial at least.”
Cassius smirked. “Aren’t I always?”
Joran didn’t bother reacting. He signaled guards to lead them to the central lift. Cassius could still remember all the faces of the lowly commoners who had attended Tribunal with their complaints. Nearly every one of them would be so struck by awe as the lift rose with an almost purposefully leisurely pace.
They had twenty-seven seconds to think about what they were going to say before they reached the most guarded room in all of the Circuit—enough time to read the names of all of the brave soldiers lost in the Earth Reclaimer War inscribed on the trunk and branches of the large tree rising through the ring-shaped platform.
The lift slid up into the sphere of the council chambers with a heavy thunk. Gilded statues of former Tribunes dotted its circumference on tiers, cast with lifelike accuracy. At four intervals around the space, towering metallic seats much too large for humans jutted out.
All of it bathed in the reddish-orange light of a flame burning in a basin floating at the room’s center on antigrav boosters. And projected above the Eternal Fire was a three-dimensional, holographic map of the Circuit, which monitored the movements of planets and asteroids around the sun as well as the solar-ark ships that defined it. In the place of Earth, a transparent container filled by a wiry green plant hung. It wasn’t a hologram.
“Fellow Tribunes, our guest, Cassius Vale, has arrived,” Joran addressed them, clasping his hands together and bowing his head in a display of formality that would usually make Cassius want to gag.
He didn’t say anything. His sight was focused on the hanging plant, a new feature in this otherwise unchanged place. It took a few agonizing seconds before he could finally tear his gaze away.
“How…” Cassius began in a growl before taking a deep breath and settling his thoughts. He’d waited far too long to let his temper sidetrack his plans. “It’s been too long,” he said before offering the feeblest excuse for a bow that he was able to muster.
Then he looked up. Two of the seats were already occupied by Tribunes. They looked like heavenly idols upon their thrones. Each of them was made up in the same garish style as Joran, with their robes unfurling down their seats with regal disregard. He had to hold in a scoff.
Joran approached his seat, and to his left around the circle sat the eldest of them, Cordo Yashan. A long, spectacular white beard fell from his chin, together with his makeup serving to hide most of his wrinkles. To his right was Nora Gressler, a middle-aged woman with short black hair and hard features. She was the newest Tribune, having replaced Cassius a few years prior after he was stripped of his title.
The last of them, Benjar Vakari, was projected on a holoscreen hovering over the chair straight across from Joran. He was a handsome man despite an oversized nose. His lips, buried beneath a bushy beard, were constantly drawn to one side to form a complacent grin.
How long I’ve waited to wipe that look off his face, Cassius mused to himself.
Once Joran sat in his seat fit for a giant, the Tribunes nodded to one another in turn, signaling at least a dozen guards to file out of the room and seal the entrance promptly behind them.
“We are blessed with ground beneath us. May our faith be eternal and unwavering so that we may one day walk the Earth’s untainted surface,” Tribune Yashan recited. Each of the Tribunes rose to their feet and carefully rearranged their clothing before they gracefully dropped to one knee. They looked to the map of the Circuit and then to the floor, slowly and deferentially allowing their fingers to graze the floor.
Cassius didn’t move. When the Tribunes rose back to their seats, he could tell by their scowls that his lack of reverence had insulted them. Benjar’s hologram, however, continued wearing the same smug grin.
“It has been a long time, I know,” Tribune Yashan said, “but I assume you have not forgotten the conventions of this council?”
“Ah, forgive me. Where are my manners?” Cassius didn’t kneel. Instead, he bent at the waist, playfully groaning as he stretched out his arm, pretending he couldn’t reach the ground.
“A mockery!” Cardo Yashan defied his age by shooting up to his feet and shouting. His face was red with anger. “How dare this heretic be invited to this sacred chamber again!”
“Relax, Tribune Yashan,” Joran said. “I’m sure Cassius’ body is still weary from travel. Am I correct?”
“It appears so.” Cassius patted his thigh a few times. “Leg seems to have stiffened up on me. I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a seat?”
Cardo bristled. “You gave up your seat here long—”
“Enough!” Joran cut him off. “We have more important matters to argue over.”
Tribune Yashan muttered under his breath as he sank deeper into his seat, looking as small as a child as he went further back.
“Now,” Joran continued. “How fares Titan, Cassius?”
“Give me a decade and the orange moon of Saturn will one day rival the great city of New Terrene.” He reached up toward the map of the Circuit and felt the flame’s hotness against his flesh. For a long while, he’d thought it merely an illusion, but it was very real. “Now, can we move beyond these pleasantries and explain why I was summoned from the comfort of my home?”
“Don’t act like you don’t already know,” Benjar Vakari’s hologram quickly cut in with an incriminating tone.
“Forgive Tribune Vakari,” Joran said. “Unexpected circumstances kept him occupied on Europa. He won’t be arriving until after you’ve left.”
“What a shame,” Cassius replied. “I was so looking forward to seeing him again.”
“The flattery is unnecessary, Vale,” Benjar said. “If it were up to me, you wouldn’t be allowed within a million kilometers of Mars.”
“No. If it were up to you, I’d be dead,” Cassius corrected.
Benjar’s distinctive grin broke for a rare moment, allowing his loathing for Cassius to seep through his expression. “You’ll find no pity from me for performing your obligatory duties to this council.”
“You mistake me. I haven’t come for pity. I only wish to hear all of you beg for my help.”
“Nobody is in the mood for your games.”
“This is not a game!” Cassius barked. “Now, from your own mouths, tell me why I, Cassius Vale, the Tribune you exiled, am required so far from my home?”
“You knew the oath you were—” Tribune Vakari voiced before the shaking heads of the others made him back down. “Fine.” His features softened, though his cheeks remained flushed. “I assume you’ve heard of the string of freighters stolen while traversing the asteroid belt?”
“The Tribune is no stranger to acts of piracy, especially in Ceresian space,” Cassius said.
“Not like this. Usually,
we’re not only able to track the stolen vessels, but disable their systems completely or scrap vital parts. Then, even if the seized ships are beyond our reach, it can take up to a year for them to be completely dismantled and reconfigured to be used again. Not to mention expensive.”
“Just to be clear, you are describing the Vale Protocol? The same initiative I spent years in the Tribune developing?”
“I…” Benjar’s mouth went crooked with embarrassment.
Joran took over from there. “Over the past few months there has been a series of thefts of private freighters containing stores of gravitum. In each case, no emergency signal went off. The protocol’s tracking systems were disabled along with our ability to disable the ships. No evidence was recorded or transmitted. The freighters are completely gone, missing, as though they never even existed.”
“You can understand why this would be disconcerting,” Nora Gressler chimed in. “If the Ceresians have found a way around the Vale Protocol, then we will have lost a significant advantage. Not all goods can be conveyed along the Circuit.”
Cassius stifled a laugh. He had a difficult time taking her seriously, her newness to the Tribune evident in her shaky tone. After he had been forced out of his position as Tribune, Nora was the one chosen to replace him as the overseer of Saturn Space, handpicked by Benjar himself. Her citadel was so near to his home on Titan that he’d made a living out of avoiding her gaze.
But shortly after she was sworn in, Cassius found that her sway over the others was as minimal as his own had been when he occupied her seat. She was a constant reminder of how much he didn’t miss being a Tribune. Benjar Vakari had her wrapped around his thumb, and she rarely got a word in edgewise.
“All of your goods, you mean?” Cassius said. “Trade in the system has always been necessary, even amongst enemies. The Circuit weaves together all of what remains of humanity.”
“Not if we can control it,” Benjar answered before she could, as usual. “Get the Keepers under our fingers.”
“Don’t think me a fool,” Cassius retorted. “The Circuit only works because it is impartial. If the Keepers were ever to lose control, the solar-arks they monitor would be susceptible to attack. It’s been a long time since the fall of Earth. There are other powers in the system, however few, who would not be bullied by you or any others.”
Cardo Yashan leaned forward in his chair and steepled his fingers. “I’m beginning to wonder which side you’re on.”
“I am on no side, because I didn’t realize sides were already being taken. I have nothing to gain in whatever conflict you fools are instigating.”
“Fools? It’s your protocol that’s being cracked, not ours.”
“Yet it’s your Tribunal,” Cassius noted. “Every program gets cracked eventually. It’s up to those in charge to ensure continued security updates. That was the agreement after I was forced out.”
“Don’t patronize us, Cassius.” Nora jumped back into the discussion. “You promised that it was unbreakable. That we’d never lose another ship to those bastard Ceresians.”
“Perhaps the ex-Tribune knows something he is not telling us,” Benjar accused, in obvious retaliation for the slight he’d received earlier. “Perhaps the inventor of the Vale Protocol himself is the one using it to subvert us?”
“You would dare make such a bold claim through the safety of a projection?” Cassius stormed around the fire basin and addressed Benjar’s hologram directly.
“Now, now, nobody is making that assumption,” Joran said.
“I may have put down the gun a long time ago, but do not think I’ve forgotten how to use one,” Cassius said, sticking out a finger. “You would be wise not to test my patience.”
“And why is that?” Benjar didn’t break eye contact, his reinvigorated expression and even haughtier grin making Cassius’ blood boil. Anybody could be tough when they weren’t in the room. Benjar was famous for it.
“Because, though I have turned to using words, there will come a time when their effectiveness wears thin. There have been very few peaceful revolutions throughout the history of mankind, from what I’ve read of it anyway.”
Cassius studied the tension on each crease of the present Tribunes’ uneasy faces. Only the soft crackling of the eternal flame could be heard as they awaited Benjar’s response with bated breath.
“Are you threatening me, Vale?” Benjar whispered through his teeth.
“Not you.” Cassius inhaled deeply and turned so that he could look upon the others. “All of—”
“Urgent message from the New Terrene Defense Arbiter,” an administrator’s voice echoed over the chamber’s comms, cutting him off.
“Patch him through,” Joran answered quickly, clearly eager to change the course of the conversation.
“Excuse me, Your Eminences. We received reports that another ship has vanished from the Circuit. Same result as the other.”
Cassius masked his enthusiasm. He’d been wondering how long it would take for ADIM’s latest attack to finally earn recognition. This was only slightly faster than expected. Cassius had to give that to them, at least.
“How long ago?” Joran asked.
“We’re still investigating,” the arbiter said.
“Thank you. I will meet with you in New Terrene shortly.”
The message cut out and Joran slumped back into his seat. He released a beleaguered sigh. “Look, Cassius. We have had our differences over the years, all of us, but you once sat upon this Tribune. In this very room. Help us now, and I will personally exonerate you of all lingering contempt.”
“And what about the others?” Cassius asked, his piercing stare directed at Benjar Vakari’s hologram. “Will they too dismiss their claims of heresy and leave me to die in peace?”
Joran didn’t wait for them to speak up. “They will. Help us figure out who is behind this recent rash of attacks and put an end to them, and you may live the rest of your life on Titan beyond scrutiny.”
“I don’t think—” Benjar started before Joran cut him off.
“Unless they don’t have the best interests of humanity at heart.” Joran joined Cassius in glaring at Benjar, who muttered something to himself in frustration.
“Finally, a man with some sense,” Cassius said, offering Joran a nod. “The issue may be impossible to resolve without recalling all vessels protected by the protocol, but I will do what I can. I’ll join you for your meeting with the arbiter first to gather as much data as I’m allowed, and then I will return to Titan, where I will maintain open communications until my services are no longer required. Acceptable?”
“You will have the full compliance of the New Earth Tribunal and its standing council.” Joran rose to his feet to address the rest of the room. “I will personally oversee this investigation and the involvement of former Tribune Cassius Vale. Do any present council members oppose this?”
“You know my opinion,” Benjar Vakari spat. Then without another word, his projection winked away. Cassius took note of the man’s face just before he vanished. At his righteous indignation rather than a smirk. Cassius would revel in the sight until their next meeting, when he would ensure the bastard never grinned again.
The two remaining Tribunes shook their heads. Both looked exhausted and obviously had no interest in causing any further unrest. Cassius had been banking on that. Their oversized seats of power made them lazy, disinterested. It’d happened to him too. But he’d needed them to ask for his help on this. It was the first part of his plan to make sure they’d lose their seats for good.
“Then it’s settled,” Joran said. “To New Terrene, then.”
3
Chapter Three—Sage
Sage Volus stepped through the doors of a chapel not far from her home in New Terrene. The space was lit only by a line of crackling fire basins set on either side of the center aisle. Shiny, corrugated metal panels ran along the vaulted space, the glow of fire playing along the tiny holes in them. A raised altar bear
ing a leafless, flowerless tree stood at the end of the chamber. Its bark was chipped and scraped to the sap, but it was alive—a gift from the ancient surface of Earth before it became unlivable.
“Sit, my children,” said an Earth Whisperer, arms spread wide. He wore a dark green robe tied by a knotted sash woven from thin strands of shaved wood. A set of crisscrossing scars over his eyes left him blind.
“Let the air of our gracious Tribune wash over you like a cleansing wave,” he continued.
Sage joined the hundreds of others, slipping into the last open seat of the furthest pew from the altar. She clasped her hands together and leaned forward, letting the ends of her fire-red hair drape over her wrists.
“I sense a full room today. Good. Our people need us now more than ever.” The Earth Whisperer stepped down from the altar and moved along the aisle with remarkable dexterity for a blind man. “The Spirit of the Earth binds us. It guides us. A collective unconscious buried deep within the surface of our Homeworld. She may appear broken, riddled with flames and trembling rock, but deep within her loins, she holds us close as her chosen progeny! So far from her core, she provides the gravity for this very room.” He pointed to the barren tree and then out toward the crowd. “And the lives she has not forsaken. The Tribune guides us, my children, to atone for the sins of the Ancients so that we may once again walk the green pastures of the world that bore us.”
As Sage listened to words she’d heard a thousand times before, she kept her eyes peeled for anybody out of the ordinary. Nobody moved. Nobody even made a sound as the Earth Whisperer returned to the altar to continue his sermon.
“There are some of us, however, who would deny the Spirit of the Earth,” he said. “Who would disregard the very force that binds us; that gave rise to our being thousands of years before the Circuit or the skyscrapers of the Ancients’ cities! So pray with me now. Beg her Spirit for the forgiveness of those lost souls who would seek to deny our redemption. Hundreds of your brothers and sisters have been lost to the cowardly actions of the Ceresian heretics in the passing weeks. Innocent men set upon in space, so far from their families and their homes.” His long nails scraped along the surface of the tree’s bark. “May they join with the Spirit.”
The Circuit: The Complete Saga Page 3